Behind Blue Eyes
by xXTinkerbell666Xx
Summary: Life at Hogwarts is about to get interesting. Claire Levesque is back for her sixth year but has no idea what she's in for, especially when she starts to fall for someone she never could have dreamed she could ever love. Rated just in case.
1. First Day on a Brand New Planet

**Disclaimer: I don't own all of these characters, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.**

The clock in the heart of London had just struck quarter to eleven when a young girl with bright blue eyes and sunny, blonde hair – probably no more than sixteen years of age – and a woman who anyone would have assumed was her mother, appeared on one of the busy platforms of King's Cross station. If anyone had been paying attention they would have sworn the two had appeared out of nowhere, however, everyone in the station seemed to be in such a hurry they hardly noticed the odd clothing the pair were clad in.

"Hurry along Clarissa," Claire's mother insisted, pushing her daughter almost roughly towards the wall between platform nine and ten, as she tucked her wand back into her midnight blue cloak.

Claire obeyed her mother walking briskly at the wall then disappearing through the stone wall as quickly as she had arrived. As she emerged through the wall, her eyes fell upon a familiar, large, scarlet, steam engine; steam spilling from the chimney as a piercing whistle sounded. Claire's mother soon fell into step behind her, hurrying her daughter toward the train. "Tell Father I send my love, won't you?" Claire asked of her mother, kissing her on the cheek and bidding her farewell. As her mother disapparated, Claire let out an almost relieved sigh and let her shoulders slouch for the first time in two weeks. It was tough being the daughter of such a noble, pureblood family.

As she stepped onto the train, she had barely heard someone shout her name before the impact of someone literally throwing themselves at her had nearly caused her to topple over.

"Brooke, you're crushing me…" Claire moaned in pain as her best friend, Brooklyn Mailey, tightened her arms around Claire's waist, making it difficult to breathe. Brooke released Claire from her grip.

For a tiny girl she sure did have a strong grip. Brooke only stood about 5'3", her frame petit and slender. Her dark, red hair curled in perfect ringlets down to the middle of her back. For a Slytherin, Brooke was very intelligent and always rather chipper, but as all Slytherin's did, Brooke had her dark side and it was not very pretty. They had been friends since their first day of school and had remained so through the last five years they had spent in Hogwarts.

"It's so good to see you!" She exclaimed, excitedly, "I was afraid you had a little too much fun gallivanting in America over the summer and were going to leave me all alone with Tracey."

"And here I was thinking you missed me," a sarcastic voice said from behind Brooke.

Claire smiled widely at her other best friend as Brooke's smile faltered, before she turned around to face Tracey Davis, her smile just as vibrant as before.

"Of course I missed you, silly! Whatever gave you the impression I didn't" She asked rhetorically in her sugary sweet voice.

Tracey rolled her eyes.

Claire had known Tracey since they were very little. Their mother's had been close since they themselves had been in Slytherin when they were in school and since it was usual for the pureblood families to stick together, it was only natural for their daughters to do so as well. Tracey was a few inches taller than Claire; her dark, brown hair was straight and shoulder length. Her frame was slightly bigger and muscular although she was still a rather slim girl.

Tracey turned to Claire with a smile, "Shall we go find our seats than?"

Claire and Brooke both nodded before following her down the hall, chatting excitedly about the upcoming school year. They had found an empty compartment somewhere closer to the end of the train just as it pulled out of the station.

"Yes, well this year I think Parkinson's in for quite the shocker," Brooke explained with a maniacal grin.

Tracey surveyed her friend with a look of suspicion and amusement, "what are you planning Brooklyn?"

With an exasperated sigh, Claire stopped paying attention to the conversation and flopped down onto the compartment seat her eyes falling shut as she pretended to sleep. It had been an exhausting summer, and she had gotten little time to herself. Brooke and Tracey chatted quietly as Claire opened her eyes and stared blankly out the window for a moment. She jumped in her seat as the once closed compartment door slammed open and a pug faced girl with dark hair, dark eyes and a haughty expression stamped across her face peered into the compartment. Two girls stood by her side both with idiotic grins playing on their freshly glossed lips.

"Well, well look what cat dragged in," Pansy Parkinson sneered, eyeing the girls in the compartment with disgust, "I'm surprised you came out of hiding Brooklyn. It must have been devastating for you, not to have been chosen as a prefect this year."

Pansy smiled smugly and puffed out her chest to make sure everyone saw the gleaming, green and silver badge pinned to her chest.

"Well," Brooke started smartly, "I figure if you dare to walk around with that hideous mustache growing from your top lip, I don't really have anything to be embarrassed about now do I?"

Pansy's eyes widened as her hand flew up to cover her mouth, "Well I never!" She glared at Brooke than at Claire as they all began to laugh before slamming the door and storming off, her company quick behind her, cooing words of comfort like: "They're just jealous" and "You're beautiful."

Claire, Brooke, and Tracey all broke out into a fit of giggles once the door had closed.

"Someone really needs to burst that inflated ego of hers," Claire laughed.

"I'm not even sure how she still fits though the door with such a big head," Tracey continued.

Just then there was a small knock on the door, Brooke being closest to the door stood up and slid open the door once more. A young boy stood in the door way, a silver and green serpent patched to his robes. He looked no more than his second or third year, Claire thought though she could not remember seeing him at school before. He fumbled with something in his hands.

"I – I was instructed to give this to Clarissa Levesque," he stuttered, standing straighter now as to appear more confident than he was, in a room full of 6th year girls.

He held out the scroll of parchment that was fastened with a red ribbon, obviously not sure which of the girls he was instructed to give it to. Claire took the scroll from his hands and thanked him. The young boy looked up at her and flushed a bright red before hurrying out of the compartment.

Tracey let out a chuckle and Brooke merely raised an eyebrow, clearly more interested in what the letter said. Pulling the ribbon loose, Claire unraveled the scroll.

_**'Clarissa,**_

_** I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. **_

_** Sincerely,  
>Professor H. E. F. Slughorn'<strong>_

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" Brooke asked bewilderment clear on her face.

"The new defense professor, I'd imagine," Tracey said taking the letter from me and reading it over, "are you going to go?"

Claire pondered the idea for a moment before nodding, "It couldn't hurt, but I wonder what it's about…."

Standing up, Claire announced that she would be back soon. If worse came to worse and she got bored she could always leave right? With that thought in mind she made her way up to the front of the train to compartment C.


	2. Crash Course in Polite Conversations

**Disclaimer: I don't own all of these characters, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Parts of this chapter also belong to J.K. Rowling.**

The corridors were packed with students eagerly awaiting the lunch trolley, when Claire emerged from her compartment, though it wasn't too hard to shove past the younger students. She arrived at compartment C only moments later and was greeted by a loud booming voice, "You must be Miss Levesque!" Claire nodded with a bogus smile as she took in the large man who stood up from the table. He was a rather large man, who's great velvet covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment when he stood. "Professor," Claire acknowledged masking her face with a vibrant smile, her eyes squinting slightly from the sunlight gleaming off his shiny bald head and silvery mustache.

With a gesture from Slughorn, Claire took a seat next to a familiar boy whom had been one of her friends for a very long time. Blaise Zabini. He was a tall black boy with high cheek bones and slanting eyes who was also a sixth year Slytherin.

"Hullo Claire," He greeted, giving her one of his usual pained smiles.

"Hey Blaise, how was your summer?" Claire asked politely. She had seen Blaise a few times over the summer, before she had left for America, when their parents got together for their usual dinner parties and formal gatherings. That pretty meant that all the adults would disappear into the study to attend to some sort of "business", leaving their children to do whatever they pleased.

Blaise was about to answer when Slughorn's voice thundered through the compartment. "Harry! Good to see you, good to see you," Slughorn said excitedly, getting up once again, his large belly moving the table slightly as he struggled to stand and greet the 'Chosen One', "And you must be Mr. Longbottom! " Claire rolled her eyes habitually and with another gesture from Slughorn, Potter and Longbottom took the two empty seats opposite each other that were nearest the door.

Claire looked around the table becoming aware of the others who also sat in the compartment. There were two seventh year boys, both of whom she had never met before, a hufflepuff Claire recognized from her year (but who's name she didn't care to remember), a thin and nervous looking boy whom she had never seen, and wedged in the corner beside Slughorn, was a red haired girl she knew immediately as Weaslebee's little sister, Ginny.

"Now do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Harry and Nevielle, "Blaise Zabini and Clarissa Levesque are in your year, of course." Zabini did not make a move, and Claire simply stared down at her nails seeming far too interested in examining her cuticles to acknowledge the two. Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle and that would probably never change. "This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other-? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, who Claire watched raise a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

"-And this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether-?" Slughorn motioned to the boy in the seat on the other side of Claire. Belby gave a strange smile, before Slughorn continued. "-And this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished. Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn's back.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on Licorice Wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things... Pheasant, Belby?"

Belby started, and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

As Belby took a large bite of the pheasant and Claire couldn't help but shoot him a look of disgust. To her amusement, in his haste to answer Slughorn's question Belby had swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke. Blaise chuckled beside her.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

"Not... not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes watering slightly.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose..." said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er... he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about..."

His voice trailed off as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to Claire instead.

"Now Clarissa," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye, "I have heard rumours that your brother has just been recruited by the French quidditch team as their new keeper."

Claire nodded politely, "Yes, he has been. Practice starts in a few months. Right now he is in America training with the Fitchburg Finches."

"Such a talented young man, your brother is. I had the pleasure of meeting with him while he was playing with the Falmouth Falcons. I must remember to send him an owl and wish him luck with his training… Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn jumping quickly the Hufflepuff, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

By this time Claire could definitely say she was bored out of her skull. She had absentmindedly ripped up the roll of bread on her plate into tiny bits. As she looked up a pair of unfamiliar green eyes caught her gaze. Harry was staring straight at her and for some reason was making no effort to hide it. His face was expressionless, but as Claire scowled at him his gazed drifted to McLaggen.

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour-this was before he became Minister, obviously-"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me..."

It was pathetic: the reason why they were all there. Everyone in the room was no doubt connected to somebody well-known or influential with the exception of the Weasley. Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen, had a famously beautiful witch for a mother who she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold, but that wasn't news to Claire. All the dark wizarding families knew what had happened to each one of Blaise's step-fathers although no one bothered to speak of it. Longbottom took his turn next. Claire hardly listened to this interrogation as she had heard of the story of what had happened years ago to the Longbottom's and what had gone down at the Ministry last year hardly interested her. The afternoon seemed to drag on as Slughorn chattered on about all the famous wizards and witches he had taught over the years, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts.

As the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails. Harry, Blaise, Clarissa... any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. "Well, off you go, off you go!"

"Thank Merlin that is over. I thought my ears where going to start bleeding from that old git chattering so bloody much..." Zabini told Claire as they pushed passed the others in the dark hallway. Claire noticed Blaise shooting Potter a dirty look as they walked down the empty corridors. It was a pretty normal reaction from a Slytherin towards " ."

As they walked they chatted quietly about their summers, avoiding anything too serious. The halls were almost deserted now that nearly everyone had returned to their carriages to change into their school robes and pack up their possessions. They stopped infront of his compartment and the door slid open to reveal a tall and slender boy with a pale pointed face and cold grey eyes. His sleek blonde hair seemed longer than it was last year and it fell carelessly in front of his face, Claire noted absentmindedly.

"Levesque," Draco said emerging from the compartment with a sly smirk.

"What is she doing here?" whined Pansy from inside the compartment.

"Malfoy," Claire said in a taunting voice paying no attention to Parkinson, as a smirk of her own slithered across her lips, "How's Daddy?"

Draco's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened ominously at the mention of his father, who was currently sitting in Azkaban after his run in at the ministry. Blaise chuckled softly, knowing Claire was hitting blow the belt.

"I'll see you around?" Claire questioned Blaise. He nodded. "Good."

With one last glance at Malfoy (who seemed to be fuming), she walked down the hallway back to her compartment only stopping to look back once. Claire giggled to herself looking back to see Blaise repeatedly trying to close the compartment door but it appeared to be stuck. "What's wrong with this thing?" said Zabini angrily before finally getting it to close.

_**Alright Guys, sorry that one was long and boring and very familiar to you for the most part. Next one will be out soon. Sorry for the long waits!_


	3. The Trick is to Keep Breathing

The Trick is to Keep Breathing

**Disclaimer: I don't own all of these characters, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.**

The train had ground to a halt when Claire reached the compartment where Tracey and Brooke stood waiting for her. The two were already clad in their schooling robes when she arrived.

"Go on ahead," Claire said rummaging around in her trunk for her robes, "I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

Brooke nodded and the two of them made their way out onto the platform. Minutes later Claire clasped her robes over her uniform and headed out after them. When she reached the carriages, only one remained; the large black, winged horse waiting ever so patiently for its passengers. Claire had been one of the only few students in her year able to see the grim creature from her first day at Hogwarts. They had found out in their third year at Hogwarts during Care of Magical Creatures that only those who had seen death could see a Thestral.

She got into the carriage without another look at the terrifying creature. Finding the carriage completely empty Claire sighed in relief; it was not often that she got time alone and this time it didn't last long either. Only moments after she got into the carriage the carriage door flung open and a winded Draco Malfoy climbed onto the seat just opposite of her. It took him a minute, but Malfoy finally lifted his head to look at her. Through the corner of her eye Claire thought she saw another smirk find its way to his lips, but he remained silent.

"Did your fan club finally get a life?" Claire asked, with a disgusted look on her face.

"No... They went ahead without me," Malfoy said passively, "I had some… business to take care of."

Claire gave Draco a questioning look when that was all he said. No sly comeback? There was something suspicious about the coolness and passiveness of Draco's answer, but Claire didn't press the matter. Honestly she didn't care. Whatever Draco had done wouldn't stay a secret for long as Draco always had a tendency to brag.

"Where's your new boyfriend?" He asked her, grinning as though he had just figured out one of her dirty secrets.

"Zabini is not my boyfriend, and even if he was that is none of your business." She sneered.

"Someone's got her knickers in a twist," Draco mocked.

"Charming," Claire scoffed, "and don't you think, for any second, that you've had any effect on my knickers."

"I think we both know how you really feel about me Levesque." He smirked stupidly.

Claire laughed, "You know... I'm so glad to see that you aren't letting your education get in the way of your ignorance Malfoy."

Draco merely rolled his eyes and looked out the window watching as the large castle grew closer. The rest of the ride was quiet and unforgivably awkward. She and Draco had barely been in the same room for a very long time (let alone alone together.)

When the carriage stopped Draco was the first to get out and instinctively held out his hand to help Claire down from the carriage. Draco was raised to be a gentleman when it came to other pureblood families so it did not surprise Claire in the least when he absentmindedly offered his hand to her, but she did not take it. Instead, Claire brushed pass him without hesitation and stepped down from the carriage, convinced that if she had let Draco help her he would have dropped her on her arse.

Draco appeared unfazed by her rejection and simply followed behind her up the castle steps and through the large oak doors. Inside the Entrance Hall of the castle they were approached by a thin, greasy man with shoulder-length black hair, and a large hooked nose, his black robes billowing behind him as he walked.

"I suggest, Miss Levesque, that you join your classmates in the Great Hall," Snape said in his soft, slow drawl; looking down at her with his dark eyes, "It is of great importance that I speak with Mr. Malfoy… alone."

Claire nodded her head politely, and made her way into the Great Hall. It was nothing out of the ordinary for Snape to call upon Draco since he was after all Snape's favourite student and a school prefect after all. Merlin knows why…

The Great Hall looked just as it had for the last five years: four long house tables filling up with returning students under a starless black ceiling. The ceiling had been bewitched to look just like the sky outside the high windows of the castle. The room was illuminated by hundreds of candles that floated in midair all along the tables, lighting up the faces of the students who were talking excitedly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses and eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.

Making her way to the Slytherin table Claire was greeted by many familiar faces; some friends, and some of those she merely tolerated, though most barely got that. One boy, in particular, stood out as she waved back at him and his friends. Aiden Thompson was a sixth year whose blood was as pure as hers, though he was placed in Ravenclaw in their first year. To Brooke's pleasure he had befriended many of the Slytherin's and often hung out them. Brooke had developed an infatuation with the dark haired raven sometime in their first year at school and had fancied him ever since, though she had never taken it upon herself to do anything about it.

As she got to the Slytherin table she took the vacant seat next to Blaise.

"What took you?" Brooke said chipperly, obviously having spotted Aiden.

"You know one day you will have to make a move, Brooklyn," Tracey said as if reading her thoughts.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about." Brooke argued.

Claire gave her best friend a knowing look and Brooke sighed, "I will, I'm just shy…"

Tracey snorted, "You? Shy?"

Claire laughed turning to glance back at the door to the Entrance Hall as a severe looking woman entered the hall. McGonagall, was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient (and heavily patched) wizards hat, as she led a long line of frightened first years through the Great Hall. The excited back-to-school chatter faded away as the first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students. Professor McGonagall, placed the stool in front of them and stood back.

For a moment it felt as though everyone in the room was holding their breath but the wide rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the sorting Hat burst into song. The hat's song was very long and Claire grew evermore tired as it continued. It sang about the houses and the characteristics of each: Gryffindors who were chivalrous and brave, Hufflepuffs who were loyal and true, Ravenclaws were smart and eager to learn, and last but not least (Claire's own house) who were sly and cunning. Like the year before the hat had a warning. It spoke of a time of a time in Hogwarts' history when the safety of the school was threatened and like before the school needed to be united in order to overcome it's deadly foes.

The hat became motionless once more and the hall broke out into applause. Across the hall students where exchanging remarks with their neighbours.

It wasn't hard to decipher what the hat spoke of since it had been just last year that the Dark Lord and his followers were revealed being at large once more, though the Ministry was doing their best to hush everything up. Fools. As they sat there in the castle waiting to begin a new school year, Claire knew for a fact that the Dark Lord's followers were multiplying underneath the Ministry's radar.

Claire looked up as Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to a long piece of parchment and called out the first name.

"Penelope Agrona!"

Draco had returned to the table without Claire noticing and had taken a seat on the opposite said of Blaise. He had remained silent after the Sorting Hat's song, a distant expression on his face. He was undoubtedly thinking what they were all thinking only moments ago.

It took a while before all of the first year students were sorted, but Dumbledore rose to his feet as the last one sat down at their table. "To our new comers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands welcome back! There is a time for speech making but this is not it. Tuck in!"

As if from nowhere the glittering gold plates and goblets were soon filled with every kind of food and drink imaginable: there were pies, pastries, trifles, roast dinners, and much more! Claire helped herself to a drumstick just as the Great Hall began to buzz with whispers. Harry Potter had marched into the room his face covered in the same blood that spotted his robes. He had managed to reach the Hufflepuff table before people started to stare. All around the room people where standing and looking over their shoulder to get a better look. Claire heard Draco snickering to himself from beside Zabini.

"Ha! Looks like someone did him in real good, ain't they Draco?" Crabbe said, grinning stupidly from across the table.

"I did it, Crabbe," Draco said, angry to not have been given the credit, "you should have heard it. When his nose broke it sounded like a broomstick snapping in half!"

Everyone at the table laughed. It was just as she thought... Draco began to brag about how he knew Potter had been spying on him from the luggage rack and how he had hoped Potter would have made it all the way back to London before someone found him.

After the third or fourth time Draco had described how he stomped on Potter's nose Claire had decided that she would rather bathe with a Grindylow than listen to his pompous voice any longer.

"I think I'm going to bed," She said getting up from the table.

"Already?" Blaise asked sounding disappointed.

"Yeah, I've got a deadly headache…" Claire lied, trying her best to look like she was in pain.

"We'll meet you back at the common room," Tracey told her just before she left the Great Hall.

The silence was heaven to Claire as she made her way through the dark but familiar dungeons. She had been this way so many times before she probably could have found her way in her sleep. The wall was located at the end of a dark hall. As Claire approached the wall she remembered something:

"Great… I don't know the password…" She said to herself angrily.

She thought for a moment before saying, "Pureblood". The wall did not change.

"Mudblood?" She tried again.

Nothing.

"Acid Pops? Fluxweed? Hinkypunk? Jelly Slugs? Chinese Chomping Cabbages! Urrrrrg! Open up you stupid bloody wall!"

"Talking to yourself again Levesque?"

Claire whipped around to confront the voice and she come face-to-face with a pair of familiar grey eyes. Great… just the person she was trying to avoid.

"That's the first sign of insanity you know," Draco said with a smug grin.

Claire crossed her arms over her chest, she did not want to deal with Malfoy and could already feel the headache brewing behind her eyes. "Well Mr. Malfoy, you'd know all about insanity wouldn't you? I mean you're currently dating it," She said.

"Pepper imp," Draco said casually and a passageway was revealed leading to the Slytherin common room - a low-ceilinged, dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs.

"And am I sensing some sarcasm? Maybe even a little jealousy?" He asked moving with her into the dungeon like room.

Claire laughed, "Not even in your dreams... What are you doing down here anyway? Shouldn't you be helping Parkinson with the first years?"

Draco chuckled, "I should, but she can handle them."

Claire simply nodded and headed for the stairs to the girls dormitories. No good would come from being alone with Draco Malfoy, she thought but as she went to walk away Draco grabbed her wrist pulling her back towards him with no warning. Claire looked at him, her blue eyes wide with surprise. "Malfoy what do you think you are doing?" She asked sourly, trying to cover the feeling of confusion and panic that was forming in her gut.

"You've been awfully feisty today Levesque. I like it..." He whispered seductively into her ear.

Claire had never been so close to him and though she would never admit it to anyone, she had always thought he was handsome, but from this distance she realized how wrong she had been. He was beautiful: like a statue, finely carved of smooth, pale skin over muscle. He had grown a few inches since the previous year and his body no longer looked lanky and thin like it had been years earlier, but appeared muscular and fit beneath his sweater. Her gaze drifted to his soft full lips and she could feel her heart pounding traitorously in her chest. But it wasn't his body or his lips that held her attention, it was his eyes. His depthless, cool grey eyes that seemed to look right through her as if he could see into her very soul.

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke Claire from her trance. Looking over Draco's shoulder, Claire noticed Brooke looking at them eyebrows raised. Draco let go of her hand letting it fall by her side and with one more look, Claire made her way up the stairs without another to Malfoy.

Brooke closed the door to the dorm and smirked as she walked into the joining bathroom, "I won't ask today but you won't be so lucky tomorrow..."

She was thankful Brooke did not press the matter. She wasn't even sure she could have explained what had happened if she had been asked. Claire hurried to get herself ready for bed before the other girls returned. With a flick of her wand, the hangings on her four-poster bed drew closed and as darkness surrounded her she fell into a peaceful slumber.


	4. Searching for a Former Clarity

Searching for a Former Clarity

**Disclaimer: I don't own all of these characters or parts of this story line, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.**

"Are you seriously going to pretend like nothing happened last night?"

Claire sighed as she made her way up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall her best friend hot on her heels, "Brooke! Seriously stop asking. Nothing happened between me and Malfoy!"

Brooke raised an eyebrow, "You are fooling no one Claire. There was some major snogging about to happen. If I hadn't walked in…"

"What?!" Claire exclaimed, whirling around so she was facing her best friend, "What would have happened? I do not fancy Draco Malfoy! So drop it! …Please."

She did not wait for an answer. Instead she turned on her heels and continued on her way to the Great Hall. Claire was tired of listening to the possible outcomes of what could have happened the night before if Brooke hadn't have interrupted. As far as Claire was concerned, if he had continued at the rate he was she probably would have shoved her wand up his nose and into his brainless head. Claire had never met anyone quite like Draco Malfoy. It had always impressed her that for someone with such a big head he had a very small mind. He was ignorant and shallow, not to mention he had a habit of tossing his friends out like they were trash. Whatever Draco was playing at Claire wasn't sure she wanted to know.

As she walked into the Great Hall, Blaise waved at them, signaling that he had saved them a seat.

"Hey Claire! Hey Brooke!" Blaise exclaimed as Claire took the vacant seat beside him at the Slytherin table.

"Hullo Blaise. Alright?" Claire said shoving a piece of toast into her mouth.

"Alright. Are you feeling better today? You said you weren't feeling well yesterday."

"Much better, thanks." Claire smiled.

Claire looked around, "Brooke, where's Tracey?" She asked finally realizing that her other best friend had be MIA all morning.

"Library."

"I swear that girl is worse than the mudblood when it comes to books."

"Clarissa… do they not feed you at home?" Brooke asked rhetorically, looking up from her book with a questioning expression on her face while Claire began to fill her plate with everything within arm's reach and started to stuff her face.

"How could you ask me that? You know eating is a 'orrible 'abit to get into," Claire snorted mocking her mother. Claire looked down the table to see Pansy Parkinson laughing hideously with her cronies. "Isn't Parkinson supposed to be helping Malfoy with the schedules?"

"Probably, but Malfoy did disappear and leave her to do all the work yesterday…" Brooke said knowingly, not bringing up the events of last night while picking up a biscuit and popping it into her mouth, "besides… he could use a little hard work once in a while. Having everything handed to him on a gold platter has had a major effect on that boy."

"Oi! Not everyone who's had stuff handed to them turned out bad. We turned out fine…"

"That's what you think," she told Claire matter-of-factly.

Hearing someone clear their throat from behind her, Claire turned to see Professor Snape with a sour look on his face.

"Good morning Professor!" She said forcing a smile.

"Indeed," he said his sour look turning into a forced grin.

It was a rather frightful sight.

"This year you are taking advanced: Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Arithmacy and Ancient Runes am I correct?"

Claire nodded her head.

"I am pleased to say I was very impressed by your potions grade last year, Miss Levesque."

It was not often Professor Snape gave out compliments.

"Thank you Professor."

"Very well, here is your timetable." He tapped his wand against a blank piece of parchment and her timetable appeared.

"Did he just give you a compliment?" Blaise asked skeptically with an eyebrow raised.

"It would not be the first time." Brooke said as certain platinum blonde haired boy took the seat across from Blaise.

"Well Levesque it looks as if you have a new hobby. Shagging the professors for better grades," Draco smirked, "You know I could give you detention for that."

At this Brooke had raised an eyebrow, as if to say "try it."

"Even if I was, at least I'd getting good grades out of it. Where as you go around making a hobby of banging every lass you meet, and what do you get out of it? Syphilis?" Claire smiled at him.

From beside her, Blaise let out a snort, and in front of her she could see Brooke attempting stop herself from laughing.

"By the way MALFOY," Claire said innocently twirling my hair, "where is your lady friend?"

"We are not…" Draco growled at her but was interrupted when Pansy looked up to see him.

"DRACO!" Pansy said in a demanding voice, "Why are you sitting with them?"

She could feel her stomach begin to turn when Pansy started clinging to Malfoy. Dismissing the feeling, she simply smirked while getting up from her seat, "Dating? Sure. Come on Brooke we have to get to class."

Claire waved at Malfoy as he continued to glare at her, and Pansy continued to smother him. Claire felt my stomach turn again watching them. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was getting sick. Oh well, she dismissed it again and walked with Brooke to Ancient Ruins.

Ancient Ruins and Defense Against the Dark Arts had gone by pretty pretty fast. She had always found Ancient Ruins a fascinating subject even if the mud… Granger was in the class. But just because it was the first day back to school didn't mean the professors would be sympathetic when it came to homework. She already had to translate 20 inches of ancient symbols, two chapters to read on non-verbal spells and it was only the first day!

Thankfully, Brooke had not mentioned anything else about the night before but as she sat in Transfiguration her mind was definitely not on the subject at hand. Her mind continued to wander back to the feeling of his body pressed against hers. The blank expression that had masked his face as he studied her. His lips. Claire returned to reality just in time to see Pansy Parkinson (who was seated in front of her) lean forward and whisper to the girl next to her.

"…It was so romantic… and then he whispered I love you…" Pansy giggled quietly.

Claire let out an unladylike snort. She couldn't be serious. It wasn't hard to tell that she was talking about Draco and if she was she was clearly dumb. Pansy whipped around in her seat looking expectantly at Claire.

"Well, it's not like he'd want to admit that aloud."

Pansy's glared. "At least he doesn't have to grunt it in troll like all your boyfriends seem to do," She scowled.

"Hmmm," Claire said with a smirk, "You'd know all about trolls wouldn't you Parkinson?"

"Ladies! Is there something you wish share with the class?" Professor McGonagall barked, clearly irritated by the disruption of her class.

"Sorry Professor. Pansy was just telling us about how she comes from a long line of trolls." Claire said, smiling at the older woman.

"Well… if you two continue disrupting my class it will be detention for the both of you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor…"

"Sorry Professor, what I think Pansy means is: urggg uh arrrrgghhh." The classroom burst into fits of laughter and Pansy looked ready to kill but Claire just laughed. McGonagall looked far from impressed.

"Detention! Both of you! And I suggest you remove yourself from my classroom immediately, Miss Levesque!" Claire didn't bother making a retort. She simply gathered her books and after flashing Parkinson a triumphant smirk , she left the classroom. As she left she caught a pair of familiar grey eyes, amusement clear on his face.


	5. Between Order and Randomness

Between Order and Randomness

**Disclaimer: I don't own all of these characters or parts of this story line, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.**

Neither Brooke nor Tracey were taking potions this year, so after lunch she was off to her double potions class by herself. She walked down the path to the dungeons like she had done so many times before, just listening to the usual sounds of the castle.

"Clarissa!"

Well… that was definitely becoming a 'usual sound of the castle'. Turning around she spotted one of her fellow Slytherins hurrying towards her. "Hey Daph, what's up?" Claire asked curiously turning toward her friend as she approached.

"Is it true that you and Draco are dating? I was just talking to Nott and he said that Vaisey…"

Claire definitely wasn't expecting that one… "I beg your pardon?" Claire interrupted her ramblings, had Brooke told anyone about what she saw last night? "I don't know who told you that but I am certainly not dating Draco Malfoy. I wouldn't date Malfoy if he was the last decent looking guy on the face of the planet,"

"Ah! So you finally admit I'm a bit of a dish?" She heard a familiar voice say from behind her. She spun around only to find herself face to face (once again) with Draco himself. He really had to stop sneaking up like that.

"What are you talking about Malfoy? I didn't say…" She began; not having a clue what Draco was talking about but stopped when she realized what she had said. She just admitted she thought Draco was good looking!

Crossing her arms over her chest, and having no way of taking back what she said, Claire turned her attention to Daphne. "I have to get to class. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Claire didn't wait for the girl to answer; she simply turned on her heel and brushed against Draco roughly.

As she continued down the corridor a rough hand grabbed a hold of her wrist and pulled her toward him.

"That wasn't very nice of you Clarissa," Draco whispered in her ear – his voice low and dangerous - as he pulled her against him forcefully, resting his hands on her hips to hold her there. Her breath caught in her throat for just a minute.

"What do you think you are doing Draco?" Claire growled, her eyes darting up and down the corridor to check if anyone was around. From their point of view this would definitely look bad.

When she looked back up at him he didn't say anything, instead a small smirk crept onto his face, his perfect lips only inches from hers. But just as quickly as he had pulled her to him, he let her go and walked down the hall toward the potions classroom. Claire stood there for a minute completely dumbfounded.

As the bell rang, she shook her head, unsure of what had just happened, and hurried down the familiar path to the dungeon classroom. When she arrived she noticed that not many people were progressing to the N.E.W.T. level. Besides herself only Malfoy, Nott, and Zabini had made it through from Slytherin. It was not surprising that many of the other Slytherins had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade to continue on. Four Ravenclaws were there as well, including Brooke's loverboy Aiden, and only one Hufflepuff. Surprisingly, the golden trio was absent, but that surprise didn't last long because they walked up behind her a couple minutes later. After sending Aiden a small wave, she walked over to stand with the other Slytherins until Slughorn arrived.

"Hey Clarissa," A wiry boy standing next to Draco greeted.

"Theo, hi! How are you?" Claire asked cheerfully.

Theodore Nott was a strange boy. For a pureblood he usually kept to himself choosing to avoid "gangs" like Draco's; he was more of a loner, but on the odd occasion he did surround himself with his own kind. Nott wore an expression that wasn't hard to place; he looked at her like he knew something. It was much like the expression that Draco wore in the carriage the day before. Though in both cases, the boys where sadly mistaken.

"Good, thanks." He smiled knowingly at the pretty blonde. Claire just looked at him with amusement.

"That thing you said to Parkinson in Transfiguration was priceless!" Blaise chimed in excitedly, taking her book bag and slinging it over his shoulder easily, though she protested, "Even Malfoy was laughing weren't you mate?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and said nothing. He had been acting rather odd lately, Claire noted, but before she could respond, the dungeon door opened and they all filed in. Slughorn's great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, as he greeted his class though he greeted herself, Blaise, and Potter with particular enthusiasm.

The dungeon was different than she remembered. It no long had a dark, gloomy feel to it and was already full of strange vapors and odd smells. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws, leaving the Gryffindor's and the single Hufflepuff to share a table. Claire looked interestedly at a colorless potion that sat brewing in a sturdy black cauldron next to their table.

"Veritaserum…" Blaise whispered noticing her curiosity.

It was another potion, however, that had caught her attention though. A gold-colored cauldron that brewed across the room was producing one of the most seductive scents Claire had ever inhaled. It was oddly familiar: a masculine scent that seemed to smell of both freshly polished wood and a warm summer's day after just after a rain fall. The scent was intoxicating and seemed to light her senses on fire.

"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, who's large form was blurred behind the vapors, "scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."

"Sir." Said Potter, interrupting Slughorn.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything - nor's Ron - we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see -"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . . ." Claire half-heartedly rolled her eyes as Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard. She breathed in again letting the scent fill her once again before she had to focus on today's lesson.

"Now then," Slughorn continued, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Can anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated the cauldron nearest to Claire.

To no one's surprise Grange's hand flew up before anyone else had a chance; Slughorn pointed at her.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the, drinker to tell the truth," she said knowingly.

"Know it all…" Blaise whispered.

Claire giggled and Malfoy shot Blaise a dirty look though no one seemed noticed.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can - ." Hermione's hand was fastest once more.

"lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

The second cauldron contained a slow-bubbling, mudlike that Claire had heard about on many occasions. "Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear." said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does."

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen." "And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and -" But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence.

Claire raised an eyebrow.

"May I ask your name, my dear." said Slughorn, ignoring Granger's embarrassment.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger. Granger. Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers."

"No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

Claire saw Draco lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, though Slughorn showed no interest.

"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry." "Yes, sir," said Harry.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Slughorn said happily.

Claire, however, wasn't impressed by Granger and neither were the rest of the Slytherins.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room - oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Maifoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love..."

"You should know all about that Malfoy," Claire whispered with a smirk.

Draco glowered.

"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said the Hufflepuff boy sitting with Potter as he pointed at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

"Oho," said Slughorn again. Harry was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger."

"It's liquid luck," said Granger excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"

The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Draco who was usually goofing off seemed much more attentive now.

"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, "desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed ... at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir." said one of the Ravenclaws eagerly.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know. . . highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly and very occasionally . . ."

"Have you ever taken it, sir." asked Aiden with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast: two perfect days." He gazed dreamily into the distance. Whether he was playacting or not, thought Harry, the effect was good.

"And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson." There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions . . . sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only . . . and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary! So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page 10 of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

No one spoke as they drew their cauldrons closer and began weighing the ingredients on their brass scales. A perfect day? Who would not want a single day to go exactly as planned without any chance of anything going wrong? Claire read the directions carefully, lining up her ingredients before she began cutting up the Valerian roots with precision.

It was clear everyone in the class was aiming to claim that tiny gold bottle. Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing, which was what Claire hated about potions. Glancing up for a second Claire's brilliant blue eyes fell on Draco who was riffling his text book strenuously. There was something off about the look in his eyes. It was almost as if he was both anxious and worried. He wanted this potion and he wanted it bad and Claire had no idea why.

Either way it was none of her concern, she told herself focusing on her own potion once more. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Claire's potion had turned a very odd shade of orange which had been very different from the smooth black color it was supposed to be.

Slughorn paced the room quietly for a man of his size, and as he passed the Slytherin table, Draco spoke up: "Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy." Claire looked up from her potion only for a moment before looking back down with a smirk on her face. Brownnoser, she thought. Draco could be really pathetic sometimes.

"Yes," said Slughorn, without looking at Malfoy, "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age. . . ." And he walked away. Claire knew Draco was angry he hadn't been accepted by Slughorn. Like being part of the 'Slug Club' was really something to brag about, Claire thought sarcastically. Malfoy expected to be treated like herself or Zabini if not better, it was just who he was. By the look of it Draco was going to have to do more than suck up to get that bottle of Felix.

This potion was proving to be quite difficult. Beside her she could almost feel Blaise growing more impatient by the minute. His potion had turned a candy apple red since he had forgotten to add the sopophorous bean to the liquid mess.

"And time's . . . up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!" Claire dropped her stirring stick as Slughorn moved slowly amongst the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff.

"The clear winner!" he cried to the silent dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are - one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!" Potter slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket, as everyone in the classroom gave him an enviously look.

"How the bloody hell did he do that?" Blaise grumbled angrily, stuffing his textbook into his bookbag.

Claire waited patiently for the other Slytherins to pack up their things but a thought crossed her mind as she glanced over at the Ravenclaw table. All the talk about luck had given her an idea. Perhaps it was time to give Brooke something better to do then annoying her. Claire had always wanted to play match maker.

"Blaise, I have something to do," She told him, "I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

Blaise gave her a confused look but before he could speak Claire was out the door hurrying down the hall.

"Hey, Thompson! Wait up!" Called Claire.

The dark haired boy looked back before turning to his friends. He said something to them and they hurried off while he hung back. "Hey Levesque," He grinned, "Some class, huh? I could have really used some luck, you know?"

"I know what you mean," Claire agreed with a dazzling smile, "look I was just wondering… are you doing anything this weekend?"

"I've got ten inches for History of Magic to finish but that's about it. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade." Claire asked excitedly. Brooke was going to love her. "Like on a date?"

Aiden pondered the idea for a minute, his eyes giving her a once over (that she failed to notice), before nodding, "Looks like I got lucky after all. Hey look I have to go. I promised I'd meet someone. I'll see you this weekend."

"Excellent," Claire said obliviously as Aiden walked away. She felt good about helping her friend. Wait… what… he'll see me this weekend? Oh no… that was definitely not good, Claire thought realizing her mistake. She had forgotten to mention he was going with Brooke and now he thought he was going with her. Luck had clearly not been in the cards that day…Brooke was going to kill her...

_** Cliff hanger :) I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to review/Msg me and let me know what you think._


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